


Ghosts from the Past

by maxride003



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, FAHC Au, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2019-11-27 18:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxride003/pseuds/maxride003
Summary: A sequel to Name Your Price.Edgar has caught up to Ryan, and has put all of the Fake AH Crew in his sights. He's set his best team to getting to Ryan and destroying the Fakes, a team composed of Ryan's old friends. You can't always escape your past, no matter how hard you try. It has a way of catching up to you.





	1. Connections

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is! The start of this sequel that I've been considering since I was halfway through Name Your Price. Now I'm bad at consistency, so I can't guarantee any kind of schedule, but it will be ongoing. And probably rather lengthy, if its prequel is anything to go off of. So I hope you all enjoy the ride!

It was late, and Matt was panicking.

He sat at his desk with his legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them until his back and shoulders ached. Tears building up in his eyes made his vision swim, everything a blurry haze, especially with his glasses lying next to the keyboard. Each breath caught in his chest as Matt tried not to sob, tried not to let a sound slip, but he couldn’t help the choking coughs that managed to escape as he all but held his breath.

The bedroom was lit in a ghostly blue glow, his computer screen the only source of light. It cast sharp shadows which made it look like figures were moving out of the corner of Matt’s eye when combined with his fuzzy sight. It left him tense, attention flicking around to make sure no one was coming up on him, worried he was going to get caught having a breakdown.

It wasn’t working. It was too hard, too much pressure, too little time. Matt was good at what he did, but he was only fourteen; he still had stuff to learn, there were still things he had troubles with, and this… This was difficult and ridiculous and had his potentially short future hanging in the balance. It was too much, especially for it only being his first week in a new place.

“Hey.” The voice was quiet, gentle, yet still Matt jumped and nearly launched himself out of his chair, whirling around to the door. His heart was in his throat, stopping him from breathing, hands now gripping the arms of his chair tightly to steady himself.

It took Matt a moment to recognize the young man that stood just inside his bedroom, door quietly closed behind him. His dark clothing and brown hair were even darker under the current light, yet his pale skin practically glowed. Matt scrubbed at his eyes, letting out a shaky breath that devolved into another shaky, choking cough as he tried to keep it quiet.

“Are you okay?” When Matt pulled his hands away from his eyes, he was surprised to meet James’s, as James crouched down in front of his chair. James was ten years older than Matt, and even in short time Matt had known him, James had become a comforting presence. Seeing him there, his blue eyes soft with concern even through the obvious haze of exhaustion that darkened the skin under his eyes, it was a little easier for Matt to make himself take a couple shaky breaths.

Matt nodded, covering his mouth with his arm as the coughs forced their way out of his clearing throat. As soon as his lungs settled, Matt wiped at his running nose with his sleeve, sniffling. James silently reached around him and picked up his glasses, unfolding them and offering them out.

They sat in silence for a moment as Matt worked to pull himself together, though he still didn’t want to uncurl from the ball he’d formed in his chair. “What’s going on?” James asked, looking from Matt to the paused surveillance videos on the screen behind him.

“I can’t do it,” Matt muttered, refusing to turn and look at his computer again. He’d been staring at it for so long, with nothing to show for it. He didn’t want to look at it all again yet. “I can’t figure it out, and Edgar’s gonna kill me.”

“He’s not going to kill you,” James said, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Well he’ll probably get really mad,” Matt corrected, wrapping his arms around his knees again. “What if he gets mad and I can’t stay here anymore? I don’t want to leave.”

James reached out, putting a hand on Matt’s arm. “He won’t make you leave. He brought you here, he’s going to try to help.” He paused and shrugged, his smile becoming tighter. “Yeah, he might get mad. But it’s for our own good. It helps you learn, so there aren’t mistakes when it matters. If you can do things around here without problems, you’ll be okay if you go out with everyone else.”

Matt frowned and shrugged one shoulder, not wholly convinced, but he didn’t want to argue it either. A thought crossed his mind and he glanced from James to the door. “Why are you up right now, anyway? I thought everyone was asleep.”

“I’m on watch tonight.”

“Weren’t you on watch last night?”

“Yeah. And the night before, too.”

“When do you  _ sleep?” _

James let out a small, faintly amused breath. “At night, just like everyone else. When I don’t have watch duty. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got enough time to sleep tomorrow night.”

“So you haven’t slept in days?” Matt asked. “Is that for your own good, too?”

“Of course. I’m going to be in charge of people around here one day, and sometimes that means I have to stay alert to keep everyone safe for long periods of time. It’s not fun, but it’s important. So Edgar is making sure I can stay up and do it.” James pat Matt’s arm, pushing himself to his feet and moving around to look closer at the screen. His exhaustion was more than apparent in his sluggish movements, and Matt spun in his chair, watching James, and wondering if he was actually wanting to stay up all the time or if he’d also made Edgar angry.

James leaned on the edge of the desk, looking over the frozen image. “So what’re you working on, then?” he asked.

Matt sighed, slowly lowering his feet back to the ground and scooting closer to the desk. “Edgar asked me to see where this man goes,” he said, pointing to the grainy image on the screen, at a man wearing a ball cap and a dark coat. “But…”

He played the video, the same video feeds he’d been staring at for hours. Once again watched this man move through a thin crowd on the streets, watched as he crossed to the other side, and as a bus stopped near the crosswalk. And like every other time, when the bus cleared the screen, the man was gone. As soon as the man was clearly off screen, Matt paused the recording again.

“I checked all the video feeds nearby to see if he walked down another street, or if he went to a parking lot somewhere, or if he...climbed up a building or something, even! But he’s just gone,” Matt said, struggling to keep his voice low in the face of his frustration. Tears threatened to spring up again, a horrible lump forming in his throat, but he didn’t want to cry anymore. Not right now.

“Did you check the bus?” James asks, gently scooting Matt’s chair aside and playing back the video himself.

“Of course I checked the bus. I never saw him,” Matt groaned, sinking further into his chair.

He watched as James quietly played and rewound the video, clicking between views that Matt had already stared at multiple times. None of the other cameras he had access to showed what happened behind the bus, and the man never appeared on another feed. After a few times through, James sat back on his heels and glanced over at Matt.

“Found him. Watch the bus stop. How many people are waiting and how many get on,” he said.

Matt sighed and slid closer to the screens, looking over everything again. He slowed it at the point where he lost the man, leaning in closer to the screen. The image didn’t get clearer, a grainy mess of fuzz, but Matt felt like it helped. He kept a careful count on the people waiting at the stop - three, plus a bulky stroller - and tried to track the shadowy outlines of people through the bus windows.

It took a couple passes for Matt to work out who was leaving and entering the bus, and account for various movements, but eventually he found four people boarding the bus, one more than was waiting. He sat back in his chair as a wave of relief washed through his body.

“He took off his hat,” Matt mumbled, looking at the small and general shape of the man on the bus. He’d been looking for the shape of a ball cap, and hadn’t paid attention to the other details.

James smiled and clapped Matt on the shoulder, getting to his feet. “Now you just have to follow the bus. Piece of cake,” he said.

“Thank you,” Matt said, rubbing at his eye beneath his glasses. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it.” James glanced at the screens and then met Matt’s eyes, face serious. “Don’t be afraid to ask your team for help. Edgar...he won’t give much. But you won’t be working with him. Not like you’d be working alongside a field team. You have to trust others to help if you’re stuck, okay? Trust me. I’ve got your back.”

Matt smiled and nodded. James held his gaze for another moment before returning the smile and reaching out to mess up Matt’s hair. Then he was gone, slipping quietly out into the hallway and leaving Matt to wrap up his work.

 

* * *

 

Matt nodded along to the music playing through his headphones, filling the silence of the house. Things were coming together well, but it felt like he never had enough information. Still hadn’t put in enough research, hadn’t looked everywhere. And with this, it was important that they have as much information as possible before diving in, since as soon as this job started, there probably wouldn’t be enough time to get extra details hashed out.

An alert flashed at the corner of his screen, distracting Matt from the fake documents he was putting together. He brought up security cam footage of the front door, only glancing it over for a second before triggering the locks. It didn’t take more than a quick look to recognize one of his team in the camera.

With the music playing, Matt didn’t hear the door or anything happening outside of his room. But it was hard to miss when his bedroom door was flung open and a flash of color threw itself onto the bed next to him.

“What’re you doing?” Lindsay asked as Matt shifted his headphones off of one ear. He turned down his computer’s volume, spinning in his chair to look at Lindsay and tucking a loose bit of hair back behind his ear.

She’d switched out her usual dark denim jacket for a brighter blue, over a cheerfully colored shirt with a cat on it, and her red hair was held back with a green headband. Lindsay smiled at him, lounging across his bed.

“Just making up some papers we might need.” Matt gestured to the screen. “You seem happy. How was the stake-out?”

“It was pretty good!” Lindsay said, fiddling with the edge of one of his blankets. “I like stake-outs at the shooting range. I hit almost  _ nothing _ but it was fun.”

Matt laughed, turning back to his computer. “I think you’re supposed to improve your aim doing that. Though weren’t they at that range?”

“Yep. But don’t worry, he didn’t notice me. He had his hands full.” Lindsay’s voice was light and amused, but after a significant pause, she turned quietly thoughtful. “Even then, I don’t think I’ve seen him that relaxed since we were kids.”

Matt scoffed. “I wouldn’t say James was  _ ever _ relaxed.”

“Ryan,” Lindsay corrected. “He’s going by Ryan now. And hey, he was more relaxed when we were kids than he was before...everything.” Lindsay flopped onto her back, reaching out to grab at a stuffed octopus near the pillow and idly playing with its legs. For a minute, Matt was back to just listening to his music and the clacking of his keyboard as he added the final details to his form.

Eventually, Lindsay sighed, and out of the corner of his eye Matt saw her stop moving, hugging the octopus close to her chest. “This still doesn't feel right. You know? Going after him… It’s like putting my big brother on the chopping block.”

“Didn’t you pretty much do that already?” Matt asked absent-mindedly, squinting at a fuzzy spot on his screen as he tried to figure out if it was his monitor or his glasses that had smudged.

“Well, yeah, but my actual brother was a dick. Ryan was a  _ cool _ older brother. And it sucks to do this to him.” Lindsay spun around, laying on her belly and kicking her feet in the air, the octopus still in her hands. “Don’t you think?”

Matt let out a heavy breath, pulling his headphones off and setting them next to his keyboard. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Lindsay. You’re just going to get the same answer as the last few times you mentioned it.”

Lindsay let out a frustrated groan, tossing the octopus at Matt. It went past him and clattered onto his desk, knocking over an empty soda can, and he leaped back in surprise. “You all are horrible, you know that?”

“Well… Yeah, maybe,” Matt admitted, fixing up his desk and throwing the octopus back onto his bed. “But you realize the rest of us…  _ I _ can’t really forgive all that happened, right? I’m not really sure how you do.”

“He was having troubles. I can’t really blame him,” Lindsay said with a shrug. “You know how badly Edgar treated him.”

“Yeah, about as badly as he treated  _ us _ when James - er, Ryan - left.” Matt shoved his glasses up and ran a hand over his face, the hair of his beard tickling his fingertips. “He left us, Lindsay. He just up and abandoned us, left us to clean up his mess, and stayed off the radar so long that we thought he was dead. Can you really not blame him?”

Lindsay thought about it for a second and then shook her head. “Not really. It would’ve been better if he  _ hadn’t _ , but it’s probably better this way. He at least had the balls to stick it to Edgar.”

“Just hope Edgar doesn’t catch you saying that,” Matt muttered, shaking off a chill that ran down his spine. He focused back on the computer, finalizing and saving his document.

“Don’t worry, I’m careful enough to avoid that. I’m not stupid,” Lindsay scoffed. Once more she shifted around, sitting properly on the bed. “I guess I just hope this is over with quickly… Think the others will be back soon?”

Matt glanced at the clock, shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, probably. It’s getting kind of late. You should remind Trevor it’s his night to grab food.”

Jumping up from the bed, Lindsay grinned and pulled out her phone. “Sure, Mr. Tech Guy.  _ I’ll _ text him. You just won’t know what.” Matt opened his mouth to protest, but Lindsay slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Matt alone once more.

Sighing, he stared at his computer, tapping his fingers against the desk. Lindsay was right, this all felt weird and off, but there wasn’t much to be done. They’d been betrayed and abandoned, a truth that still wormed at Matt’s gut and brought forth a childhood fear and loneliness. He and the rest of the team had paid for Ryan’s mistakes, why shouldn’t Ryan step up and deal with them, too?

Still, it was uncomfortable digging into him so much. For him to be a target. It was hard to shake the fact that they were going after the guy who’d really raised them all.

Matt groaned and dropped his head into his hands, muttering to himself, “I hope it’s over quickly, too.”


	2. Special Broadcast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're just going to ignore the delay in posting. This was really difficult to finish for some reason, but I hope you all enjoy it!

_ Today, we turn our attention to what’s probably the most well-known gang in all of Achievement City, the Fake AH Crew. Only a year ago, they were virtually unheard of by most of the city, a small and fairly quiet gang operation that was little more than a frustration to the ACPD and those they crossed. Now, they’ve become a household name and topped the FBI’s most wanted. _

_ The Fakes have been in operation for years, and up until recently consisted of only two members. It was created nine years ago by Geoffrey Ramsey, a local man with an extensive record, despite past attempts to permanently delete evidence of juvenile offenses. _

_ Ramsey’s interactions with law enforcement have been extensive, varied, and haven’t always been negative. Though he spent much of his teenage years in and out of juvenile detention centers for a number of varied charges, Ramsey was a brief member of the ACPD as a young adult. This should have been impossible with the stains on his record, as none of them had been expunged or hidden by the orders of a judge, but they had in fact been hidden regardless. _

_ There are no details as to how this hack had been pulled off or by whom, but before enlisting Ramsey managed to completely erase any evidence of unlawful activity and was cleared to join the force. Inevitably, however, the hack was discovered and Ramsey was immediately rejected from the ACPD, shortly after completing training and entering the ranks as a rookie. _

_ The list of charges against him continued to grow after that, ranging from drunken disorderlies to petty theft to trespassing. This activity seemingly put him in contact with other like-minded individuals, and during this period, the Fake AH Crew was formed and started operations. _

_ Now, Ramsey’s fairly mild police record includes more serious charges such as arson, first degree murder, second degree murder, and trespassing on military property. Pictures and descriptions of him have been circulated, describing him as a thin caucasian man with dark hair, a prominent mustache, tattoos covering both arms, and often wearing a suit and bowtie. _

 

Geoff tugged at his sleeves, trying to get them to settle how he was used to. They were so loose, it didn’t  _ feel _ right. He didn’t think a hoodie even could feel wrong and uncomfortable, but here he was.

Now that the police were getting people to look out for a man in a suit walking around town, Geoff had started taking precautions whenever he had to leave the penthouse. Long sleeves that covered a majority of his tattoos, loose and more casual clothing such as T-shirts, hoodies, and jeans, and he’d even shaved his large mustache. That had been one of the harder changes, since he’d been keeping it for a while and was fond of the look, but Jack had convinced him to do it in the end.

It was rather peaceful, walking down the street with a breeze playing with Geoff’s hair. Cars passed back and forth on the road, other people strolled down the sidewalk, and there wasn’t a loud, short tempered, tense asshole crew member anywhere in sight.

The past couple months had been a mess, even beyond their troubles with the country’s law enforcement, and Geoff was glad to get out of the penthouse when he could. Trips through the city were on an as-needed basis until the FBI decided to fuck off, which left everyone confined to the penthouse with the same people for a very long time, and no one was handling it particularly well by now.

Then alongside the bickering and overall grumpiness with their situation, Gavin had been difficult since he was refusing to sleep unless someone won a heated argument with him and made him go to bed. And there was the tension that followed Ryan around like a shadow, particularly where Michael and Ray were involved, which only made things that much worse.

Geoff had really chosen the wrong time to stop drinking, since this was a situation where he would happily get drunk in order to avoid it.

Sighing, Geoff shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts of his crew. He had other things to focus on right now, this was his break time, worrying about them was Jack’s problem right now.

Shoving the thoughts of his crew aside, Geoff stopped outside a convenience store, readjusted the hoodie again, and then strolled inside. He’d take advantage of his time away while he could.

 

_ Finishing the duo that was the original Fake AH Crew was another local, a man named Jack Pattillo. Like Ramsey, he spent a significant amount of time in detention facilities, though his most common offenses were grand theft auto and joyriding. It was known that young Pattillo was a part of a car theft ring within Achievement City, but no further information was ever uncovered in order to pinpoint the particular ring. _

_ Pattillo has proven himself to have extensive mechanical knowledge and driving skills that far surpass the usual citizen’s. Police report that his father, David Pattillo, had been dishonorably discharged from the Air Force after eight years of service, and it’s believed he taught his son how to operate other vehicles. Jack has been known to hijack and pilot not only cars, but also commercial vehicles, construction equipment, planes, and helicopters. _

_ Only two months ago, Pattillo was arrested by the military for trespassing and intent to steal a military vehicle, but was broken out of custody by other members of his crew. He’s described as a large caucasian man with red hair and a large beard, often seen in Hawaiian shirts. The FBI advises people to keep their vehicles locked and secure, and ensure that all security measures are serviced and up to date, in order to deter future thefts. _

 

Jack wandered through the scrap yard, eyes peeled for any parts that he still needed to get. He’d been in and out of the yard quite often in the last couple months, since Jack had made it his project to repair the crew’s vehicles. Not only did it get him out of the penthouse when things got a bit much, it was also nice to work on something he was good at.

Some of the crew’s vehicles just needed a few minor repairs and adjustments, once they’d gotten them back from the impound lot. Michael’s car needed some body repair, getting rid of a few dents and cuts from shrapnel after the warehouse explosion, and Jack had scrounged up some new license plates with Jeremy’s help. Not that a chrome car was difficult to track on its own, but since Michael refused to recolor it, the plate change would have to be enough.

Gavin and Ryan’s motorcycles had taken a bit more damage from the explosion and needed a couple new parts before they fully gave out, but fixing those hadn’t been too difficult. The main problems had come from trying to piece the Jeep and Gavin’s little purple car back together.

Ryan had really done a number on them when he’d caused that crash, enough so that Jack had had to hunt them down before they’d ended up scraped. Since then, a lot of his time had been devoted to getting them back in working order and looking like cars once again.

It probably would’ve been easier to just go obtain new cars, and they had the two little ones they’d been using in the garage still. But not only would stealing a couple similar cars draw unwanted attention, but they weren’t the  _ crew’s _ cars. If Jack had a choice, he’d much rather fix up the cars they’ve been using for ages rather than go hunt down new ones.

An old car very similar to Gavin’s caught Jack’s attention, and he hurried over to check it out. Maybe he could get the little purple car working again in another week or two, provided this one had a few decent parts he could use.

 

_ The last year has seen the numbers of the Fake AH Crew more than tripled, and with the growth came the highly explosive burst of chaos throughout the city. Among the new members is a pair that is currently suspected for, not only the actions of the Fakes, but also the train station bombing and overlapping shooting that occurred just last year. _

_ Michael Jones and Ray Narvaez Jr. are currently being considered as suspects for other similar crimes as well, though police have yet to link these incidents to either of them. While both have fallen on the wrong side of the law in the past, they seem to have stayed off the radar for the most part, leaving them with very short and minor criminal records that seem to go against their criminal skill and knowledge. _

_ Jones disappeared in high school, dropping out and leaving little trace of his whereabouts when he was sixteen. There are no records of him between then and when he was nineteen, and police were never informed of his disappearance. When he resurfaced, it was during the bust of an underground fighting ring, which resulted in his first offense. Other offenses include a handful assault and battery charges, as well as possession of explosives, which he seems highly capable of using. _

_ Narvaez was a known gang member in Huntsville, and though he gained the attention of the local law enforcement on multiple occasions since he was young, he was more often given warnings. At least until he started to show an interest in guns, which is when his record started to grow. Where he got his training is unknown, but police have confirmed Narvaez is an extremely capable sniper, and from recent evidence he appears to have skills with other firearms as well. _

_ Jones and Narvaez have been found together on multiple occasions the last few years, and seem to have joined the Fakes together as well. FBI warns to look out for these two men, whose images are now on your screen, and not to engage them. They are likely armed and extremely dangerous, and are only to be confronted by trained law enforcement agents. _

 

“I’m gonna kill one of you guys, I swear!” Michael shouted. His words weren’t directed at anyone in particular, since most of the crew wasn’t even in earshot, but it made him feel a little bit better. “You all are  _ animals. _ ”

“Hey,” Ray protested from where he was sprawled across the couch, a bag of chips cradled in the crook of one elbow and his DS balanced against the folds of his hoodie. “I’m not an animal.”

Michael looked over at him, staring pointedly at the crumbs covering Ray’s chest, and the empty drinks sitting on the floor next to the couch. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Ray grabbed a couple chips and shoved them in his mouth, crunching down on them loudly. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said around his snack, spraying crumbs all over himself. Michael scoffed and shook his head, waving a hand dismissively as he set about trying to tame the mess of the penthouse.

Within two months, it had become a disaster, and one Michael often found himself dealing with while everyone else fucked off to who knew where. No one else seemed to care about the mess, but it drove Michael insane.

Dishes got stacked up all around the kitchen and scattered around the living room, most people putting them off with a “I’ll get to it later…” or just flat out refusing to do them at the moment. Shoes were a constant tripping hazard, since the front door was apparently the wrong place to take them off, and they ended up everywhere from the couch to the bathroom to the middle of the kitchen floor. Michael was still waiting for the day there was an accidental misfire from one of the guns that was carelessly left around, or someone stabbed themselves on a stray knife hiding underneath everything.

Jackets piled up on the back of the couch, the occasional friendless sock found its lonely way down the hall, snack boxes and bags and containers were tossed where a person sat, games and controllers and electronic remotes tended to find their way beneath pillows or between cushions to get sat or stepped on, papers spilled from their precarious position at the corner of the coffee table where Geoff would sometimes work, and there was food ground into the carpet pretty much everywhere Michael looked.

It was fucking disgusting, and Michael was sure he actually lived with a bunch of children. At the very least, as much of a mess Ray was causing at the moment, Michael knew _ he _ would actually clean up after himself.

Trash bag in hand, Michael started picking his way through the penthouse, grumbling under his breath about being their fucking maid, while Ray occasionally grinned or chuckled at some of his louder comments.

 

_ Another new recruit is Gavin Free, a British hacker that moved to the city a few years ago. He goes by the alias “Golden Boy” online, and often hides emoticons in his code as a signature. Free is a skilled hacker, operating in codes and computers for much of his life. However, he was nearly cornered while in England, and is currently the only member of the Fakes to have the interest of Interpol after he fled the country. _

_ Numerous hacks since then have contained his signature, including changes to the database of US citizens that shows Free to have received a green card nearly as soon as he touched down in the country. Even with a noticeable signature in his code, Free has been difficult to properly track, but FBI assures people that their best computer analysts have been assigned this task. _

_ The sixth member of the expanded Fakes is Jeremy Dooley, a local business owner without any prior arrests. We aren’t sure how Dooley ended up joining the Fakes, as his past has been rather mild compared to the rest of the crew members. After graduating from a local community college, Dooley slowly started to accumulate his businesses, which currently includes two storage facilities and a car rental agency. He’s also the landlord and owner of a small apartment complex. _

_ Until he joined the Fakes, Dooley had never been anything more than a quiet but model citizen. However, somewhere in his past, he’s picked up a skill with guns that has been seen by law enforcement and captured on video. How this came to be is currently unknown, but FBI warn to keep an eye out for Dooley, who’s often seen in brightly colored clothing and with similarly dyed hair, as he could potentially be dangerous. _

 

“Hey, Gav.” Jeremy’s voice was gentle, and it took a moment for Gavin to focus on it past the cotton that had stuffed his head. He spun in his chair, shaking his head to try and clear the cobwebs, pressing the heel of one hand against his eye.

“Hey, Li’l J,” he mumbled, exhaustion making his words slur slightly. “What’s up?”

Jeremy stepped into the office, closing the door against Michael’s grumbling upstairs. His eyes flicked from Gavin to the numerous cans of Red Bull sitting on the desk and scattered on the floor around him. “When was the last time you slept, buddy?” Jeremy picked up one of the cans, examining it, before setting it back down on the desk with a gentle clink.

Gavin frowned, turning back to his computer screens. He didn’t really remember what was even on the screens or when he pulled it up. He actually wasn’t sure what he had been working on when Jeremy walked in. “I’m not tired.”

“That long, huh?” Jeremy’s voice was faintly amused, though Gavin could see the concern in his eyes when he leaned his hip against the desk. “Go to bed, man. You gotta get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” Gavin said quietly, staring at nothing in front of him.

It had been hard to sleep for a while, without being plagued by nightmares. His dreams always took Gavin back to the hold of the Corpirate’s ship, trapped and scared and injured. Back to where Ryan was against them; tense, angry, intimidating. It would’ve been bad enough to just run through the memories again, but the dreams kept changing it all.

Ryan stayed against the crew in Gavin’s dreams. Sometimes, he went for Michael, hitting with his thrown knife or putting a bullet through Michael’s heart. More often, he turned on Gavin. If he was lucky, the nightmare ended with a shot through his head, making him lurch up in his bed in sudden, panicked wakefulness. The bad nights were the ones where Gavin’s subconscious subjected him to endless torture, all at Ryan’s uncaring hand, before he eventually ended up dead and freed from the nightmare.

Gavin thought it was easier to just not sleep for as long as he could, avoid the dreams. Sometimes, if he left it long enough, he’d become so exhausted that he wouldn’t dream next time he went to sleep. And even if he did, at least it wasn’t as frequent.

“Come on,” Jeremy said, gently pulling at Gavin’s arm to get him up out of his chair. “Just a little bit of a nap. You’ll be alright.”

Begrudgingly, Gavin got up and followed Jeremy out, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. Maybe a small nap wouldn’t hurt. And maybe dream Ryan would turn out to be as lovely as real Ryan.

Though Gavin didn’t have very high hopes.

 

_ Finally, the last new member of the crew is ultimately a mystery. While we know his first name is supposedly Ryan, there is no given last name, and police have been unable to find any records to identify him with. Even after attempting to discover who Ryan truly is through DNA, finger prints, and dental records, police have emerged with nothing to show for their efforts. The only surety is that he also goes by the alias of the Vagabond, a ruthless criminal that’s made appearances throughout the country before ultimately disappearing. _

_ The few times Ryan has been caught before joining the Fakes, it was for relatively minor charges. But since he’s joined the crew and more attention has been brought on them, the FBI has reason to suspect his involvement in a large number of violent crimes in different cities, on top of the growing list of charges against him here in Achievement City. _

_ FBI has advised that if any citizen sees a man in the Vagabond’s skull mask and leather jacket, not to approach or confront him. Instead, clear the area and call the hotline number that they’ve - _

 

Ryan jabbed his thumb down on the remote, shutting off the television and darkening his room around him. He tossed the remote aside with a scoff, falling back against his pillows. He didn’t know what the city thought they were accomplishing with these news reports - they were vague, full of holes, and were little more than fearmongering.

That, and the FBI had abandoned their full, official investigation two weeks ago from lack of progress or evidence.

Besides, the news coverage was the least of Ryan’s concerns. Reporters were just a nuisance, spouting off half-checked information just to be the first to give it, and accomplishing little more than giving the crew ideas on how to avoid suspicion during the man hunt. They meant nothing. Not when Edgar remained a looming threat.

It was being holed up, all the precautions against law enforcement, the lack of activity, the tight rules and schedules that seemed to be driving everyone else up the walls. But Ryan just got antsier the longer Edgar took to show his hand.

It had been a couple of months since Edgar had called, with his promise to meet up with Ryan again. A couple of months where the crime lord could have easily tracked Ryan down, tracked the entire crew down, and squashed them if he so chose. Especially aided by the media and their minimal research, it wouldn’t have taken Matt long to scrounge up any information that team needed to reach the Fakes.

So where  _ were _ they?

Ryan groaned, an uncomfortable prickling sensation rolling down his spine, and sat up. He rolled his shoulders, shaking the feeling off as best he could, as he quietly crossed his room to the window. The blinds were closed, he never opened them, and Ryan pushed aside one slat with a finger.

This high up, in the penthouse, it was impossible to see anyone in particular. The city stretched out before him, buildings reaching up to the sky, and small cars winding their way on toy sized streets down below. It was a normal day in Achievement City, quiet and calm, and it was driving Ryan insane.

The prolonged silence couldn’t be good. Edgar’s team had to be building up to something, waiting for something, it was the only explanation Ryan had. He just didn’t know what they were working up to.

And if he was entirely honest with himself, it terrified him.


End file.
